On Sunday we had a girl who dislocated her knee. All the girls were playing in the ocean and as they were getting out a big wave came and knocked them all down. This girl Taylor fell and twisted her knee, dislocating it. She screamed and I was up on the grass watching and I thought she just stubbed her toe or something. I ran down, saw the knee, DISGUSTING. Knee cap totally out of place. And of course we're on the most REMOTE place of this whole program. Let me just say that the transportation involved in getting this girl to a hospital involved 4 different modes of transportation and took 5 hours. At first I was like, wait Alex (my other guide) you're a WFR (wilderness first responder, people who when camping are trained to react to medical injuries), but since we weren't in the back country and they weren't sure if it was broken, we decided not to just pop it back in place. So they call for the taxi (which is an hour and a half away) and we start to make our way along the beach to go and meet the taxi. The only vehicle they have is a cart pulled by a small horse, so that'll have to do. We put mats down and the guys who work at the lodge lift up Taylor, who is screaming in pain because they're touching her leg. I've given her Ibuprofen by this point but it doesn't seem to be doing the trick. The 15 minute horse ride, as me and her friend Isabel walked/jogged alongside the cart, I tried to keep Taylor's mind busy and off of the agony of having to go over some big rocks or branches brought in by the high tide. I found out she has a younger brother, that her friend hates sharks and refused to bathe or shower for a period of time as a child thinking they would get her through the drain, and that Taylor has never broken a bone in her body or had any type of injury. Of course this happens in Costa Rica to her. We finally get to the end of the beach where we have to wait a half hour I'm told for the taxi. Oh and by this time it's raining, of course. We shuffle her under this overhang, which has about 15 wasps flying about their nests attached to the overhang. It's fine I tell her, you're just going to be sitting there not moving anyway, and they don't want to go out in the rain and bother you. By the time the taxi gets there, Taylor's shivering and I've run out of reassurances and things to talk about. The guy who brought us there just 5 hours earlier, William, pulls up in his Defender and says we have to get in now because the rivers we're going to pass through on this gravely bumpy road are rising fast with the rain water. Not knowing how to get her into the car, they get a foam pad and hoist her up onto in, which of course elicits more screams of sheer agony and sobs. After noticing that William has brought some muchacha with him (daughter? younger girlfriend?) and that now only one seat is left, I angrily swear in Spanish that me AND Isabelle are going and why didn't he bring this girl anyways? We make room and drive the 1 and a half hours to the nearest town with cell phone service and a hospital. Along the way William tells me in a know it all manner that they wont' be able to do anything but give her drugs in Puerto Jimenez, that we'll have to take a boat to Golfito, which is 30 minutes away, so they properly examine her, do x rays, and diagnose her. I say that's all well and good, but we're going to see what the doctors say when we get to the hospital in Puerto Jimenez. To pass the excrutiatingly painful ride, (I brace myself everytime we go over a pothole, digging my nails into my skin trying to inflict on myself just a slight piece of what Taylor is going through), I ask Taylor what her favorite Friends episodes are. We talk about the one with the Hannakuh Armadillo, and later about the One Where Nobody's Ready where Joey wears all of Chandler's clothes and Ross drinks the fat. Silence ensues as the next round of wails come from Taylor and I pull out my book and headlamp. If anything to distract myself and Isabelle from the sobs. I read the back of Middlesex to give the girls an idea of what it's about, and then start reading. I continue to read for the next 35 minutes, through screams, wails, and curses. Later Taylor asks me if the main character is a boy or a girl and assures me that she was at least half listening and did appreciate the diversion. When we finally get to the hospital, I feel that nobody pays attention to me, as I'm screaming at them in Spanish to be careful, it's THAT leg that is messed up, and where are you bringing her? What are you giving her? I'M the guide, yes I speak Spanish. They dope up Taylor what I can only hope is laughing gas or an anesthesia and confirm William's suspicions. They arrange for an ambulance and a boat, and within 30 minutes we are off on a motor boat with Taylor laying on the floor and the rest of us looking out in the gulf admiring the glow in the dark plankton. After that, everything goes pretty smoothly. Five hours after the incident, Taylor's knee is popped back in place, a old school made-from-scratch cast is put on her leg from mid thigh down to her ankle (to make sure the ligaments heal properly, she didn't break anything), and we are sent on our way.
Well it was just my first trip to the hospital with a kid this summer, not too shabby for the last trip. And it could have been worse. We could have been on the 3 day even more out in the middle of nowhere kayaking trip.
